


Of Wolves and Men

by Leloi



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Pack Dynamics, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 21:04:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leloi/pseuds/Leloi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock stumbles across a werewolf in the forest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Wolves and Men

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not done with this story... but just thought I'd throw it out there. This is a WIP.
> 
> Warnings for: Brief mentions of past non-con.
> 
> The title references Steinbeck... but the plot doesn't. No rabbits will be harmed in the writing of this... I promise. Not even Bluebell. "Tell me about the glowing rabbit, George..."

It was near dawn. His torch long since lost power, Sherlock managed to make his way through the woods in pursuit of his quarry. The man he chased could barely fare any better in the half light of early dawn. His stumbling through the bushes and over fallen tree litter made it easy to track. Somewhere ahead he heard a fall and a curse. But then there was the sound of movement. Sherlock pushed on ahead and tripped, falling hard on the leaf strewn mossy ground. Cursing softly he looked back to see what he legs were tangled on. A naked person lay with his back to him.

Sherlock scrambled to his hands and knees, palms of his hands stinging from the fall and his trousers torn at the knees. Quickly he crawled to the person and checked him over… genitals and lack of breasts showed that he was indeed looking at a man. His fingers checked the carotid artery and found a strong pulse. A glint of metal caught his eye and he reached for a pair of dog tags.

“John Watson, Rose Prima Orange Beta, Warg.” Sherlock frowned. What was a military grade werewolf doing in the middle of the woods? But the man was alive and soon he would awaken with the dawn. Sherlock could wait. Werewolves were known for their enhanced senses. This one would be able to track down the one Sherlock hunted very quickly. Pulling off his coat he covered the werewolf and sat down at the base of the tree to wait for the other man to awaken.

^.~

John Watson woke just after dawn, sore and chilled from lying on the ground in just his skin. Rolling onto his back he stretched and felt something slide off his side. The scent told him it belonged to a human male. Carefully he sat up and stared at the coat that lay beside him. The owner of the coat sat a short distance away watching him. “Hello?”

“Hello. I’m wondering if you can help me.”

“With what?” John got up from the ground and picked up the coat, dusting it off before handing it back to the man. “My clothes are somewhere around here.” Not bothering to cover up, John moved to a different tree and reached into the trunk to pull out a bag. Quickly he got dressed with the contents of the bag. “What do you want?”

“A human male passed through here less than an hour ago… can you track him?”

John blinked a few times. “Yes. But why?”

“He’s a criminal. He thought he could escape in the woods… and he almost did until I stumbled onto you. I think he stumbled on you too while you were passed out.”

John took a deep breath and turned around in place, assessing the air. Finally he faced a direction. “This way.”

The man got up from the ground and pulled his coat back on. “I’m Sherlock Holmes.”

“John Watson.”

“I know… I looked at your tags.”

John blinked a few times in confusion. “You read my tags?” Self-consciously he glanced down at his dog tags.

“I tripped over an unconscious naked man in the woods… what was I supposed to do?” Sherlock asked.

John shook his head. “This way.” Leading the way he followed the scent trail that was still very fresh and almost too easy to follow.

^.~

The man sat in handcuffs as the local precinct booked him for the crime he had committed. Sherlock watched him as he was led away to await his sentence. Turning to John he smiled. “You hungry?”

“Famished…” John replied as he yawned. “Sorry… I was up all night… as you can imagine.”

“You live in town?”

“No… I just come here for their woods.”

“Are you staying nearby?” Sherlock frowned.

“Sleeping rough.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to draw attention to myself.” John yawned again and shook his head. “Sorry… I should… go find someplace to nap.”

“I have a room at the local inn.”

“That’s very kind of you…”

“I don’t need it… well maybe I need it a little bit but you’re welcome to come share it with me.”

John stared at Sherlock with sleepy eyes. “You did read on my tag what I am, right?”

Sherlock shrugged. “Should that bother me?”

“I’m… not fully human.”

“You need a place to sleep and a meal. We’re not picking out wallpaper together.”

John continued to stare at Sherlock as if to assess him. “Fine… I’ll take you up on your hospitality. But I have some money so I’ll pay you back.”

“You really don’t need to.”

“I do.” John followed Sherlock to the local inn, conscious of the curious looks he was receiving. But as far as anyone knew he was just a normal human, right? The room was small but the bed was big enough for two people. “Are you sure?”

“I insist.” 

John stared at the bed a moment. “I need to… sleep nude. My skin is too sensitive after my change.”

“Knock yourself out.” Sherlock indicated the bed.

Quickly John took off his clothes and climbed onto the bed, curling up onto his side. “If it bothers you I can take my wolf form to sleep.”

Sherlock raised his eyebrows. There was plenty he didn’t know about werewolves. Transforming outside of the full moon was one such thing he didn’t know. “It’s fine.”

John stared at Sherlock for a long time, his gaze never wavering.

“What?” Sherlock licked his lips, nervous at the intensity of the gaze. “Are you… hungry?”

“Sit beside me?” 

Sherlock sat down on the bed and was immediately his thigh was commandeered by the werewolf to be used as a pillow. “I don’t know anything about werewolves.”

“We’re pack creatures… we find comfort in companionship. I was born to a pack… my pack is dead. I am so alone.”

Sherlock reached down and lightly touched John’s hair. 

“We slept together… ate together… worked together… brought down targets assigned to us… every day of my bloody life they were there… and now they are all gone. I’m alone. We’re not meant to be alone. They set me free to find another pack… their packs won’t accept a fringe werewolf. Maybe the feral ones will let me join… if I can find them. If they accept my human blood…” As he spoke John clutched Sherlock’s knee and massaged his calf muscle.

Sherlock reached down and took John’s hand. “What about humans? If you’re half human then…?”

“In their eyes I am an animal. I may have my sire’s name… but that doesn’t make me… human.” John rolled onto his back and stared up at Sherlock, head still in place on the detective’s thigh. “Humans fear us… I’ve been told. They think we’ll change them into werewolves… but it’s genetic… like blue eyes or having six toes. I’m a werewolf because my mother was a werewolf. It doesn’t matter how many scientists breed with us, our offspring will always be werewolves… or warg… that’s the accepted term for what I am… a crossbreed.” John looked away, blushing a bit and rolling over onto his side again, the side of his head on Sherlock’s thigh. “I’ve been bred many times… all my cubs are like me. Some of them are old enough to start breeding now and their cubs are the same.”

“And you can’t join them?”

“That’s not how it works. We’re kept separate. My pack didn’t even have any females in it. We were all male and alpha born… the ultimate fighting team. My mother’s pack has my sister, her daughters and my own daughters. They will only ever breed with human males. My sons will be given human females to breed with when they reach maturity… like I was.”

“How are things done in a feral werewolf pack?” Sherlock couldn’t take his eyes from John, the naked soul clinging to his leg as if it was a lifeline. The more he heard about the experiments the less he liked. 

“In feral packs they pair off… always breeding with the same mate. A pack is made up of an alpha male and female… their offspring… and those offspring’s mates and cubs. When the pack gets too big they may break apart or slow their breeding. Warg don’t have that option. We are encouraged to create as many offspring as we can as quickly as we can… more warg for the program… a near inexhaustible supply of soldiers.” 

The more John spoke, the worse Sherlock felt. This warranted a call to Mycroft to demand explanations… but not while the werewolf was awake. And there was that certain sense of kinship… himself being born to a wealthy family and being “encouraged” to settle down and marry and father as many children as he could manage. That was a sort of breeding program… not nearly as inhumane as what John described, but one nonetheless. The only real difference being that Sherlock would be expected to stay faithful to one female… but their children would be bundled away to schools and molded into aristocracy of their own right.

But Sherlock would never be “retired” or set free like John had been… left to his own devices to find a place in a feral pack. No… his family would hunt him down and drag him to the altar if they could get their hands on him… if his work and lifestyle didn’t disgust all the women they set in his path. Cultured women of his status didn’t like body parts in the fridge or eyeballs in the microwave.

“Sleep… I can work from my mobile. Just relax.”

John smiled and closed his eyes. “Thank you… first time since the night they died… thank you.” Very soon the werewolf was asleep. 

Quickly Sherlock took a dog tag and took a picture with his mobile, sending along with a text to Mycroft that read ‘Tell me what you know about this man.’

The mobile rang and Sherlock answered it. “Tell me.”

“Is he dead or alive?” Mycroft asked.

“Very much alive, actually… and drooling on my trouser leg. Tell me what you know about the warg program.”

“From his file I know that he has sired sixteen of our top warg in the second generation breeding program. He is… 32. He was a distinguished alpha of his pack… his pack are all dead, not his fault. He was retired several months ago from the program. It seems he is currently in Dartmoor if your mobile signal is anything to go by.”

“I want to keep him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Sherlock.”

“That’s not what I meant… He’s alone. I could use the company.”

“I don’t think you’re prepared to enter into a pack with a warg, Sherlock.”

“How difficult could it be?”

“Sex.”

“I beg your pardon!” 

“Besides breeding an army of powerful warriors the program was used to breed desirable traits into werewolves. They breed. You mentioned that this particular warg was drooling on your trouser leg. They were bred to bond together as a pack to every pack member. They eat together, sleep together and fuck together. Yes, I said it… there’s no other way to describe it. I’ll send you some video footage that will make your skin crawl. What will you do when he wants to become pack to you in all ways of that word? In his experience… that means mounting you.”

“I…”

“We’re not talking about a little grope like Trevor had with you back in secondary… no… a full grown warg, empowered by his instincts to invade your body. If you are pack to him he will take you. You won’t want that.”

Sherlock took several calming breaths, glancing down at the man who so innocently snoozed on his thigh. It was hard to think of him as the sexual creature Mycroft described. And yet his genitals were fully on display, twitching every so often as John slept. “He’s… alone… unwanted.”

“Sherlock…” Mycroft sighed in a put upon way. 

“Answer me… can I keep him? Will there be any trouble if I bring him back to London with me?”

“He may need a safe place to stay during the full moon so the general public won’t see him and cause a panic.”

“I can have Mrs. Hudson give me the spare flat.”

“He isn’t a goldfish or a gerbil… he is a warg… a genetically manipulated werewolf crossed with human DNA.”

“I know WHAT he is.”

“Remember that when it’s the full moon and he has his knot stuck in your arse.”

“I will.” Sherlock frowned and lightly ran his fingers through John’s hair.

“I’ll send you the footage. Don’t make any plans until you see it. I know you… Good day.” Mycroft hung up and Sherlock ended his side of the call. 

A few minutes later there was a video sent to Sherlock and he opened it, careful to keep the sound low. On screen there was a group of about ten men, writhing together in sync. The camera panned the group before focusing on a man who was balls deep in a woman. The man was John… younger, but definitely John. Behind John another male very obviously had his cock up John’s arse and they all writhed together in time with the rest of the group. One male gave a cry which caused the tempo of the movement to speed up and all the males in the room raised their heads and began to howl as they obviously climaxed. Melting together onto the floor in a pile of bodies several women picked themselves up off the floor, climbing out from under the males that had been fucking them. “Dr. Sawyer?” the camera woman greeted the woman that had been under John.

The woman, Dr. Sawyer, was handed a lab coat and she quickly put it on to cover her nudity. “I’m alright. Look at them all.” The camera panned the group. Many males were still stuck together. “They sleep like babies as soon as they all ejaculate.” As the camera panned some of the males idly moved to get cozy with their nearest companion, some using others as pillows as they curled up together. “We should record their fertility rates during the full moon. Have the women ovulating tomorrow sent to them.”

“We have five doctors who should be ready.”

Dr. Sawyer nodded. “That should be enough. Remind them about knotting. They won’t be able to leave for at least an hour after the climax.”

“Noted, Dr. Sawyer.”

“Right then… Molly? Mary? Jenny? Back to base.”

The other females in the room acknowledged the order. “Yes, Doctor.”

“Don’t forget to fill out your logs as to who you serviced and for how long. Turn off the camera.” And with the order the video ended.

Sherlock stared at the blank screen for a long moment. His mind’s eye replayed the movements of the orgy… for that’s what it had to be classified as… an orgy. A caught breath beside him made him turn to stare into John’s wide eyes. 

“The howling woke me.” John swallowed hard. “My pack… that was my pack.” Shifting a bit, he tried to move closer to see.

Sherlock replayed the video for John to watch.

John looked enthralled, giving out gasps and noises of delight as people he knew flashed across the screen.

“Who is the male behind you?” Sherlock asked as gently as he could.

“That’s Bill.” John smiled, inching closer. “Oh… there’s Alex! And Arthur! Martin loved it when Arthur knotted him.” The orgy ended with the howl as all the males again relaxed onto the floor and the females picked themselves up. “There’s Sarah… the doctor who serviced me. Molly… Mary… Jenny… the one holding the camera is named Katie… she was already pregnant with Bill’s cub from our previous bonding. They all got pregnant that day. And the group after them too when we were in wolf form… our fertility success was really high.”

“You miss them.”

“They were my family… all I had.” John lay back down when the video ended.

Sherlock set the mobile down on the nightstand. “Would you…?”

“What?”

“Would you like to come to London with me?”

“London? Why? What’s in London? The feral packs are out here in the countryside. There won’t be any packs in a city.”

“Well… I was thinking… you might like some company. I have a flat… and I can share. There’s extra room for you and even another flat for you to have privacy during full moon.”

John sat up again and stared at Sherlock. “Let me… smell you.”

“What?”

“It’s a warg thing… just let me sniff you.”

Sherlock nodded and was instantly unprepared for John to press his nose into his crotch. “Um…”

“Just relax.” John replied, taking a deep whiff. Moving up Sherlock’s body he checked other scent spots… the underarm and the neck. “Yeah… Yes, I’d like that. To share a flat with you… that would be… fine.”

“Do I get to know what you were sniffing me for?” 

“I was checking your honesty. Other things too… like getting to know your unique scent.”

“Oh…” Sherlock felt less than eloquent sitting beside the naked man as his scent was analyzed. 

“Like… I know that video excited you.”

Sherlock cleared his throat and stared down at himself. “Are you sure it’s not because… you’re naked?”

John smirked and nodded. “Even MORE excited than you had been just sitting beside me. I had my head on your thigh and I could smell the change very clearly.”

Sherlock blushed and stared down at himself. “You should know… I’m not… very tactile. I’ve never been… the idea excites me and yet terrifies me. I won’t know how to… to satisfy you.” A bitter quality entered his tone and he made a face. “You’ve had… a lot of experience and I… I’d rather not talk about my own… or lack thereof. I can’t promise you anything… or that I can even come close to meeting your needs as a… a pack mate. But I can offer you companionship. You won’t be alone anymore. And you’ll have a roof over your head and food. You don’t even have to work.”

John leaned in closer to Sherlock, sniffing at his neck. “You’re… a lone wolf… like me.”

“What?”

“You’re like I am… a lone wolf on the fringes of a human pack. But you’re not an alpha… no… your alpha cast you out because you wouldn’t conform to the rest of the pack. You’re a beta… so you probably wouldn’t mate the female he picked for you. You wouldn’t make cubs like you’re supposed to.”

Sherlock stared back at the werewolf, disturbed at the ease that John figured him out. “I could be an alpha…”

“No… you’re not.” John grinned. “But with the right mate you could be.”

“Mate?”

“I’m an alpha.” John whispered, moving in closer, eyeing Sherlock’s throat. “I lost my mates. You’ve never mated…”

“I…” Sherlock tried to pull away, escape from John’s attention in his throat.

John’s breath was warm as his canines faintly dragged against Sherlock’s neck. “I could take you…”

“You… could?” Sherlock closed his eyes and arched his neck, allowing John more room for god knows WHAT upon his person. His body was reacting to the werewolf… his cock hard in his trousers, his heart rate accelerated. Never had he felt so… so sexual in his LIFE! Even with Trevor trying to wank him off in secondary.

“You’d gain my standing… the standing I had in my old pack. You’d be alpha with me… my alpha mate… our own pack.” John’s lips pressed against Sherlock’s neck and lightly kissed there. 

Staring up at the ceiling, his mouth open and eyes shut, Sherlock didn’t know if he was about to have his throat ripped out or explode in his pants… His hand reached up to touch the other man’s arm. And then his mobile went off.

John sat back on his haunches, taking a deep breath.

Sherlock gasped for breath and then mindlessly grabbed the mobile to turn it on. “Lestrade?”

“I have a case for you when you get back.” Lestrade informed him without preamble.

“That’s… that’s great…” Sherlock, continuing to take deep breathes to settle his racing heart.

“What’s wrong? Why are you so out of breath?”

“Me? I was… um… masturbating.”

“Sherlock…” Lestrade gave a heavy sigh and there was a squeak of wood as if he was leaning heavily on his desk. “Remember what I told you about TMI?”

“Too much information?”

“Yes, mate… way too much information.”

“I’ll be back to London tomorrow afternoon. Shall I see you then?”

“Yes, of course.” Lestrade replied. “Go back to… whatever you were doing.” 

The call ended and Sherlock stared at the mobile in his hand.

“Why did you tell them that?” John queried.

“I… don’t know what came over me. I was breathing heavily though… he could hear it. And really it’s none of his business what I was doing.”

 

John nodded silently and then lay back down on the bed, his head on the pillow this time. “You’re going back tomorrow?”

Sherlock bit at his lower lip for a long moment, staring off into space, very much aware of the man who lounged beside him and the impact he was having on Sherlock’s body. “Are you… coming with me?”

John reached out and lightly ran his fingertips down Sherlock’s thigh. “I have nowhere else to go. If you want me to come with you… that’s fine.”

“I know that it’s fine…” The double entendre of the words weren’t lost on Sherlock. Nervously he shifted to accommodate the bulge between his legs. “Be gentle with me?” Glancing at John a moment he looked away and turned red.

“Are we talking about your den in the city or… something else?” John asked carefully.

“Yes…” Sherlock turned even redder. “Both?”

“Lay down.” 

Sherlock obeyed, his head on the pillow beside John’s. “I’ve never… I…”

“It’s alright…” John soothed rubbing his hand on Sherlock’s torso. “Just relax. Close your eyes.”

“It’s very hard!” Sherlock burst out, unsure if he was referring to relaxing or the state of his crotch.

“Shh… shh… I know, Pup. Just take deep breaths.” John rested his head on Sherlock’s shoulder and continued to rub the human’s belly. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His fingers opened Sherlock’s trousers and prompted the other man to push them and his pants down his thighs. Leaning down he breathed in the heady musk from Sherlock’s manhood, which stood on proud display. “Trust me?”

Sherlock nodded, eyes still closed, teeth worrying at his lower lip.

“I won’t hurt you.” Opening his mouth, John took the human deep down his throat. His tongue laved the underside of the cock as his lips made contact with the base. Bobbing a few times, his eyes flicked up to assess Sherlock’s progress.

Eyebrows up and mouth open, Sherlock was half propped up on an elbow to watch John swallow him. His eyes went wider with each down stroke. It only took a half dozen before his head rolled back onto the pillow. “I have to… It’s…”

John pulled back. “You have to finish?”

“Yeah…” Sherlock nodded and cursed his lack of eloquence while getting his dick sucked by a strange man. 

“Go ahead and finish.” John took the organ into his mouth again, sucking at it as he throated it and was rewarded with a feral grunt from Sherlock and several warm pulses down his throat. Pulling back a bit he tasted what Sherlock expelled. It wasn’t really like his pack mates… but it was palatable. Sherlock would make an acceptable mate. Of course John wouldn’t be able to fuck him for very long… the man lacked stamina. But stamina could be built… like the human women who had bred with the pack.

“I’m sorry… I’m not very good.” Sherlock rubbed his face with his hands, staring at the ceiling and not at John.

“I’ll teach you, Pup.” Lightly his hand covered the organ he had just sucked. It was damp and softening in his palm.

“Why do you call me a pup?”

“You may be close to my age but you lack any experience with mating. Only our cubs lack mating experience.” John settled down next to the human, resting his head on Sherlock’s shoulder. His hand rested on a naked hip. 

Sherlock reached down and pulled back up his pants and trousers, not bothering to fasten them. “I plan to learn more about werewolves.” Remembering Mycroft’s words he took a deep breath. “What is… a knot?”

“When I’m in wolf form… the base of my penis swells up to keep me inside my mate. It keeps my seed inside of them for a time. If I’m with a female it helps get them pregnant. With a male it’s just a time to be close.”

“The woman in the video said it could last… an hour?”

“I never timed it. Of course as a wolf I have no real sense of time anyway. I just get stuck and sleepy. When I wake up I can pull out and clean myself.” John stared at Sherlock, studying his body language in response to the information. “It worries you.”

“I’ve… never even been with a human.”

“I won’t knot you right away… not until you’re ready.”

“Oh well… thank you, I suppose.”

John rested his hand on Sherlock’s chest, feeling his heart. “I told you… I won’t hurt you. Pack don’t hurt each other.”

Sherlock couldn’t think of anything to say in reply… so he didn’t.

^.~

John turned around and around, staring up at the buildings. “It’s… so big!”

“You’ve never been to the city?” Sherlock watched John’s reaction to Piccadilly Circus with some amusement.

“I’ve lived at the government facility that housed our project… most of that was underground except the training grounds.” John continued to turn, staring at marvels. “I’ve seen pictures, of course. We were schooled.”

Sherlock smirked, feeling more in his element away from woods and quaint country B&B beds. London was his city. Confidence returned and he was no longer the unsure, vulnerable man on the bed getting his dick sucked. No… Sherlock was a consulting detective living in a flat with a landlady who made biscuits every week. Criminals cursed his name because he solved their clever ruses and brought them to justice. London was home. “We have to go to St. Bart’s.”

“Why?” John pulled his attention away from the pigeons sitting on a nearby statue.

“Case… like the one you helped me with in Dartmoor? I’m needed.”

John nodded gamely. “Where to?”

Sherlock led the werewolf through the city until they came to the hospital. Pulling John down into the morgue he smiled at Molly Hooper. “I’m here for Lestrade’s case.”

“Oh! Sherlock!” Molly beamed, obviously pleased to see him. “This way.” Molly pulled out a body and stood nearby as Sherlock began to look it over. “How was your trip?”

“Fine.” Sherlock replied.

“Who’s your friend?”

“That’s John… John, this is Molly.”

“John Watson.” John smiled at the female. “I know a Molly…”

“Obviously not the same one…” Sherlock seemed annoyed.

“No… of course not… She was a behaviorist.”

At that moment Lestrade entered and looked around the morgue. “Welcome back, Sherlock.”

“Mmm…” Sherlock hummed in acknowledgment.

“Who’s your friend?” 

“That’s John Watson.” Molly smiled.

“The bite marks are…” Sherlock began with his attention on the throat of the victim.

John leaned in and glanced at the marks. “Parabolic dental… prominent canines upper… Transforming werewolf.”

Sherlock straightened up and stared at John. “What?”

“The teeth marks… distinctly human with prominent canines… that’s the bite of a werewolf in the early part of their transformation… or the late part if it was dawn.”

“Werewolf…” Lestrade stated as if John had grown a second head.

“Well…” John leaned into the neck and sniffed. “Warg.” 

“Warg?” Sherlock frowned and looked to Lestrade. “Was this body found in connection to a full moon?”

“Yes… found the morning after in an alley. Defense wounds show there was a knife involved.”

“Then it happened at dusk.” John smiled brightly.

“How do you know that?”

“Wolves can’t carry knives. They don’t have hands… not unless this werewolf got his hands on a knife while he was transforming back into his human form… but most of us are too tired to even stand up, much less attack someone.”

“Most of us…?” Lestrade echoed.

“I’m a werewolf.” John continued to sniff. 

“Sherlock!” Lestrade turned to the consulting detective. “Where did you find a werewolf?”

“Dartmoor.” Sherlock grinned. “What else do you smell, John?”

“Warg… male… human mate.” John sniffed deeper. “Lost his pack a while ago… it smells like… Red Sigma pack. They were killed over a year ago. He’s a beta… and… Alex.”

“Alex is the name of the werewolf?”

John pulled away from the corpse to stare at Lestrade. “No… Alex is the name of his alpha brother who was in my pack. Alex’s mother’s name was… umm… Daisy? So you’re looking for the surviving warg Daisy Beta Red Sigma. I don’t know his name but that’s his ID. Daisy Beta Red Sigma.”

Lestrade wrote the ID down. “That’s… amazing. You did that all by smell?”

“That’s what werewolves do… we find our target based on smell.”

“That’s almost as clever as Sherlock’s trick.”

“It’s NOT a trick!” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I deduce! I notice little details that the rest of you take for granted or ignore.”

Lestrade chose to ignore Sherlock’s outburst. “Will Sherlock be in contact with you? In case we need more information…”

“Sherlock asked me to live with him.” John blinked a few times at Lestrade and then looked up at Sherlock.

“That’s perfect then… we’ll be in touch. By the way I am Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade.” Holding out his hand John just stared at it. “Shake hands?”

“Why?” John stared at the hand.

“That’s what humans do.”

John reached out and allowed Lestrade to shake his hand. Pulling his hand away he sniffed it before resting it at his side.

Lestrade blushed. “I can’t imagine what you must smell on me…”

“Lunch, I think. Onions and meat on bread.” John grinned. 

“I like you… I like him, Sherlock. Keep him around.” Lestrade put his notepad away. 

^.~

Sherlock sat at the kitchen table with a wolf’s nose wedged into his crotch. The past few days John in human form followed him around wherever he went… even into the loo or to bed on rare occasion. The werewolf curled up next to him on the bed sometimes in wolf form. But while Sherlock worked at his microscope the wolf form rested his head on Sherlock’s leg… and then nuzzled up between Sherlock’s thighs. Lightly Sherlock scratched between the wolf’s ears, earning him a soft lick on his crotch and a warm puff of air. Needless to say the reaction was too distracting and the scratches didn’t come too often. But this was something his werewolf companion needed… reassurance. 

John’s muzzle pulled away and the werewolf shifted into his human form, still under the table between Sherlock’s legs. His fingers undid the zip and button of Sherlock’s trousers.

Sherlock pushed the chair back from the table, watching as John followed him, intent on undoing the trousers and working down the pants. “John… I’m a little busy right now.”

“You’re always busy.”

“I told you before… I’m just not very tactile!” His voice gave a sharp inflection at the end of the phrase when a pair of lips wrapped around his cock. Helplessly his hand rested on John’s head. “John… please… I’m not even hard right now.”

John pulled off the still soft prick and looked up at Sherlock. “You could be… with a little more attention…”

Sherlock sighed, glancing at his microscope regretfully. “I suppose just a little break then… and not in here.”

John eagerly got up, already half erect at the prospect. “Bed?”

“Fine…” Sherlock got up and led the way to the bedroom, standing before the bed. Quickly he took off his clothes and kicked off his shoes before sitting on the bed.

John sat beside him, nuzzling against Sherlock’s neck. “You’ve never taken your clothes off before.”

“I don’t want to get ejaculate on my clothes.”

“I always clean you up afterwards.”

Sherlock cringed a little. The attention to his grooming after a session by the werewolf was a bit embarrassing. Every spec of semen was quickly found and consumed. It felt good… fantastic even… but it was still very… odd being the focus of THAT much attention. And Sherlock felt just a little bit unworthy of that attention. There was nothing he could offer in return. John seemed to enjoy sucking his cock… but Sherlock didn’t know how to reciprocate the gesture. Really he couldn’t help but think he should be giving more. The orgy video showed very little cock sucking if any. All of the participants were inside their partner. Sherlock felt more than a little intimidated… and unworthy. John was an experienced, sexual being… and Sherlock was not.

John leaned on Sherlock’s leg, watching conflicting emotions run through his human pack mate. “Sherlock?”

Sherlock shifted his attention outwards. “Hmm?”

“You’re always so… hesitant when I do this for you.”

“Why do we do this?”

John smiled and lay down beside Sherlock, resting a hand on the pale, naked chest of his human. “This is what werewolves do… to reaffirm their pack. I take in your scent.”

“But I haven’t taken your scent.”

“No…” John replied carefully. “You haven’t.”

“Does that bother you?”

“A little.” John sighed and rested his head on Sherlock’s shoulder. “But I know you’re just a Pup…”

Sherlock frowned and looked away. “I had a boyfriend… when I was much younger. He wanted to… to sleep with me. But… I don’t know. It just didn’t feel… right. He tried to wank me off to get me in the mood… and he forced his cock down my throat. We broke up after that. I felt horrible… I never wanted anyone else to touch me again. All I could think about was him pulling my hair as he… and I coughed so hard afterwards. He thought it was funny… that it went down my trachea instead of my esophagus. I was just… a warm body to him. I wasn’t anything special or someone to love. And I came to the conclusion that love doesn’t exist.”

“He… forced you?” John’s eyes took on an animal gleam.

“I… wouldn’t put out and he got frustrated with me.”

“That’s not an excuse!” John’s eyes looked dangerous. “Who is he? Can I meet him?”

Sherlock reached out to keep John from springing off the bed. “It was a long time ago.”

“It doesn’t matter… I’ll track him down! I’ll stuff his cock into his own mouth and see how he likes it!”

“John… he’s already dead!” 

John stopped and blinked down at Sherlock. “Dead? Are you sure?”

Sherlock nodded. “His skull is on the mantle.” 

John started to get up again. “I’ll shatter his skull…”

“No! Wait, stop!” Sherlock caught John around the waist and pulled him back down on the bed. “He’s gone.”

John gave an exasperated whine. 

“It’s… fine… Why are you so…?”

“He forced himself on my mate… how else should I react?”

“But I wasn’t your pack back then…”

“It doesn’t matter. He hurt you. I am your pack, your alpha… I protect you.”

The intensity of emotion in John’s eyes made Sherlock shiver for a moment. Gently he reached out and touched John’s face, confused at the reaction his body had to John’s statement. Glancing down he saw he was getting hard. “I…”

John’s eyes trailed down Sherlock’s body, noticing the beginning of the erection. “Maybe sucking your cock isn’t the best way to please you. Too many memories involved even though I’m the one that swallows you. I suppose that detail is what just makes it tolerable.”

Sherlock nodded and blushed. 

“But you’re not ready for penetration… either way… even with you inside of me.”

Sherlock’s blush deepened. 

John leaned in and kissed Sherlock’s cheek… then his chin and his nose… finally his lips. His own lips were hungry and insistent. Delightfully the detective didn’t seem to mind and even kissed him back. They snogged for a time and John slowly lay on his back, guiding Sherlock to follow and sprawl out on top of him. Their erections made contact and Sherlock pulled back a little in surprise. “No… no… it’s good.” John whispered, reaching out to soothe Sherlock’s cheek. “Lay on top of me.”

Sherlock obeyed, feeling his hardness pressed beside John’s. John’s legs were open and rested on each side of him. The position was very cozy… and very intimate. John’s thighs hugged his own as he moved his hips slightly, sliding them together.

“That’s it… that’s good.”

Giving a few experimental thrusts he found that his penis really liked the friction. John seemed to like it too if his whispers of encouragement were any indication. “Like this?”

“Yes… keep doing that… and whatever else your body demands. I’ll let you take it as far as you like.”

“As far as I like?” Sherlock stopped moving. Looking around them he realized their position. “We’re in a sexual position.”

“Yes… we are.” John whispered, licking his lips. 

Sherlock sat up a bit and looked down to John’s open thighs, his arse exposed. The movement was so very… easy… and the hole seemed to be open and eager for him to push into. A part of him wanted to do it… to enter John and experience real sex for the first time. But another part of him was terrified what that would mean… what if John left him? There was much to be said for not knowing what you are missing… once he got a taste of sex… could he forget it if John left him? But werewolves don’t leave… they were faithful until the end. John called him ‘mate.’ 

The uncertainty in Sherlock’s posture made John sit up, legs still open and surrounding his mate. “Sherlock… you don’t have to. I was just offering more if you wanted it. You don’t have to… I just wanted you to know that I’m willing.”

“Do you want me to?” Sherlock searched John’s eyes again. 

John smiled. “Yes… of course.”

Seeing no deceit or hidden motive there, Sherlock nodded. This wasn’t like with Victor Trevor. There had been a hidden motive in his eyes but not John’s. “Will it hurt you?”

“No. I’m used to it. It will feel really good for me.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my mate… and I get to share my body with you… and you get to share your body with me. I’ll have a part of you inside of me… and you’ll leave a part of yourself there even after you pull out. For another werewolf sniffing me it proof that we belong together in the same pack… that you mounted me.” As he spoke John caressed Sherlock’s face. 

“You’ve never… finished… these past couple of weeks we’ve been doing this. Will you finish if I… mount you?”

“Oh god, yes!” John breathed, shaking his head in wonder. 

Sherlock nodded. “Ok.” 

“Ok?” John lay back down.

“Ok… I’ll… do it.” Nervously Sherlock reached down under John’s scrotum, running his finger back to find the orifice by touch, watching John tremble beneath him. His finger encountered someplace open, warm and wet. “Why are you wet?” Quickly inspecting his finger he saw nothing that would normally leak out of the orifice. 

“Um… adaptation? Pay no attention to it… it will help you enter me.”

Sherlock returned his finger, finding the opening open and dripping. Grabbing his own penis he positioned it in place and slowly pushed into the tightest heat he didn’t expect. Sliding in easily, he bottomed out balls deep. “Adaptation?”

“Anal lubrication…” John replied with a grin, wrapping his legs around Sherlock’s body and holding him close. “You feel… so good.”

Sherlock pulled out a little and thrust back in, delighted at the sensation. His movements were erratic and not very consistent. Never had he tried anything like this… aside from his own masturbation which always seemed smoother. Now he had to coordinate legs and pelvis as his hands held himself up over John.

John beamed up at him. “You’re doing well… for a first time. But do you mind if I take over?”

Sherlock shook his head.

“On your back.”

Sherlock obeyed.

John straddled the human and sat down, impaling himself on Sherlock’s cock. Squeezing it a moment with his internal muscles that made Sherlock’s toes curl he began a familiar rhythm seen in the video. 

“Do… werewolves… always fuck… in that rhythm?” Sherlock gasped out between moans.

John smiled and nodded as he continued, rocking. “My pack does… until we’re about to climax.” Arching his back he held onto Sherlock’s knees as he moved. “Do you think you can keep this rhythm if I was on my hands and knees?”

“I can try.”

Immediately John got off and moved into position, delighted when Sherlock pushed into him from behind. “That’s good… back to the rhythm.” 

Sherlock complied, finding it easier to manage when he was up on his knees. Watching himself disappear into John’s depths with each in stroke he was fascinated by the mechanics behind the act as much as the sensations it gave him which was more like background noise at that point. 

“More touch…” John panted. 

Sherlock’s hands explored the sides and dick of the one he fucked. When his hand made contact with John’s stiff member the reality of what he was doing overwhelmed him and his rhythm slipped. “Oh god…” Holding John’s hips he held on for dear life as his body made it clear it was time to finish. 

John tried to meet Sherlock’s thrusts, knowing his mate was about to finish very soon. Frankly he was pleasantly surprised that Sherlock had lasted as long as he had. 

Sherlock pushed in and froze, feeling himself expel deep within John’s tight heat. Giving a few more half-hearted strokes, his orgasm washed over him and he leaned against John’s back.

John pushed back against Sherlock and raised his head to howl as his seed spilled on the sheets below him. “Bite me…”

“What?” Sherlock gasped from John’s back somewhere near his scapula.

“Bite me!”

Sherlock found a fleshy part and bit down.

“Harder! Draw blood!”

Sherlock bit as hard as he could. When he began to taste blood he relaxed his jaw.

John shivered and finished his climax, melting down onto the bed with Sherlock still wedged inside of him. Years of careful behavior conditioning by doctors intent on breeding him put John to sleep almost instantly. Sherlock had no such conditioning and pulled out when he heard John snore softly. Sitting back on his haunches he stared wide eyed at the man who slept in a puddle of his own seed, bite mark oozing blood. Licking his lips, he tasted the blood still there. What did it mean? Quickly he got up and pulled on a dressing gown to do a search on werewolves and biting during sex.

^.~

Sherlock sat back and closed his eyes, computer still open. It seemed that werewolf mating was much more complicated than he thought. Biting was something feral werewolves did when claiming a mate during sex. Warg didn’t bite because they couldn’t… there were too many mates. John had been mated and had sex with all of his mates but never was bit… before now. In one bite he became the life mate of a single partner. Movement from the bedroom made Sherlock break his thoughts.

John stepped out of the bedroom with the sheets. Pausing for a moment he bowed his head and headed for the laundry to start the wash.

Not that Sherlock ever considered taking another werewolf mate… and according to the research he could technically still sleep around until John bit him back and laid claim to him. By biting John he had proclaimed to the werewolf world that John was “taken.” They would smell John’s blood on him and know that John was off limits. 

John returned from the laundry room and sat down on the couch, still naked. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Sherlock asked. 

“I didn’t realize… I mean I’ve had sex with humans before and I didn’t think…” Biting his lips, John nodded to himself. Idly his hand reached up and touched the bite Sherlock had given him on his trapeziod muscle. “I’ve never asked to be bitten before.”

“Well… I can see there are no other bite marks on you…” Sherlock answered.

“It’s not just that… I’ve never felt the urge to be bitten… I don’t know why I even asked.”

“According to the research it’s something feral werewolves do.”

“They do?” John looked genuinely surprised. 

“You didn’t know?”

“Some things were kept from us… to keep us docile, I guess. I can smell myself on you. And I haven’t even mounted you but you still smell like me.”

“Yes… it means that I claimed you, apparently… that no other werewolf can have you.”

“That’s probably why… we didn’t… because we mated the whole pack… and we allowed humans to breed with us and shared them. If we paired off then…” 

“Then the breeding program would end.” Sherlock gave John as small smile. “It seems warg are only artificially adapted to polygamy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You… didn’t know.” Sherlock readjusted his robe, suddenly very aware that he hadn’t even washed himself after pulling out of John… so eager had he been to look for information.

“I promise I won’t bite you back… unless you ask me to.”

Sherlock nodded.

“But I’ll still treat you as a mate… because you are. At least in the ways of my old pack we are…”

“John?”

“Hmm?”

Sherlock’s eyes focused on Trevor’s skull for a long moment. “I liked it.”

“That’s good to know.”

Sherlock nodded. John was nothing like Trevor. And whereas John was technically an “animal” and changed form into a wolf, Trevor had been an actual beast. Humans could often be so cruel. At least John offered fidelity and companionship… maybe even affection. Sherlock gave the werewolf a smile. “Not so bad… for my first time.”

John smiled back and curled up on the couch, his head resting on Sherlock’s thigh. Tucking his hands up under his chin, he gave a small sigh. “Full moon is in four days.”

“I know.”

“My body will be sensitive… It’s tough to wear clothes.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I’ll need to be touched… not necessarily sex… but to reaffirm our pack.”

Sherlock lightly ran his fingers through John’s hair. “I don’t mind.”

John whimpered and pressed his face against Sherlock’s thigh, rolling over to wedge his nose into the human’s hip. “You smell like me. You haven’t cleaned yourself.”

“I was distracted.”

“May I clean you?”

“If you must.” Sherlock pulled open his robe, still petting John’s hair.

John glanced up at Sherlock and then began to lick, using his tongue to clean. When he was finished Sherlock sported a half erection. Pressing his nose back into the human’s hip, John closed his eyes and fell back asleep.

Sherlock pressed his head back into the couch cushions and closed his eyes. His fingers idly caressed his pack mate. Soon he too was asleep.

^.~

Sherlock woke to the sound of growling. Blinking open his eyes he focused on John in wolf form staring down Mycroft who was pressed to the door.

“Call him off!” Mycroft demanded.

“John?” 

John’s ears flicked back, hearing his mate’s voice. The growling stopped but there was still a lip curl and the fur on the back of his neck bristled. 

“John… it’s just my brother.”

John gave a snort and changed shape in one fluid motion he stood with his arms crossed over his chest. “Why is he sneaking into our den?”

“He… does that.” Sherlock rubbed his face to wipe away the sleep. “It’s alright.”

John continued to stare down Mycroft, knowing the human equivalent of an alpha when he saw one. “Sherlock is mine now.”

“Is he?” Mycroft asked, raising his chin in challenge.

“He’s my pack. I’m his alpha.”

“By the looks of both your states of dress I would say he’s… something to you.”

“He mounted me and claimed me.” John showed his bite mark. “I belong to him.”

“Been busy, Sherlock?” Mycroft smirked.

Sherlock realized that his robe was open and he stood to close it, stepping up beside John’s defensive position. “What do you want, Mycroft?”

“Been poking into the warg database?”

“Well… I am living with a warg.” 

“Daisy Beta Red Sigma.”

“What of him?” Sherlock yawned.

“Sebastian Moran. He was retired July 2009 after his pack was ambushed in a brutal attack overseas back in April 2009. When his last pack member died from their wounds he was set free to find a feral pack. Whereabouts are currently unknown.”

“London… last full moon.” Sherlock replied. “John identified him as the killer. Victim was stabbed and had their throat ripped out by a transforming warg.”

“How was he identified?”

“By smell.” Sherlock pointed at John. “You bred them to track by scent.”

Mycroft glanced at John a moment before pursing his lips. “You are aware that I’m not involved in EVERY project… right?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you to have fathered at least a few of them…”

“Don’t be daft, Sherlock… John is your age. I was hardly old enough to father anyone your age.”

“Doesn’t stop you from fathering later generations… John told me his mother, sister, daughters and nieces are all part of the breeding program.”

Mycroft gave an imperial sniff. “I leave mingling DNA with werewolves to YOU, Dear Brother… not that John will ever pup with your efforts.”

John growled softly.

“Oh shut up!” Mycroft rolled his eyes at John. “I’m not here to breed him or even touch him… so be silent.”

“Don’t tell John what to do.” Sherlock frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Mummy will be so… pleased to know you’ve settled down… but with what, exactly? Not exactly the countess or ladyship she was hoping for.”

“Oh get off it, Mycroft! Not like I was ever going to take a wife.”

“No… instead you take a wolf.” 

John lunged at Mycroft, baring his teeth. “If you can’t be nice you’ll have to leave our den!”

“Such strong words from a naked man,” Mycroft mused airily.

“His skin is sensitive due to the impending full moon.” Sherlock self-consciously closed his own robe tighter as if that made up for John’s state of undress.

“He does have a rather pleasing form… no wonder you adopted him.” Mycroft’s eyes swept over John.

“I brought him home with me because he had no place to go and he was alone… and he’s good with cases. It helps that he finds my companionship tolerable.”

“And your body pleasurable…”

Sherlock scowled and blushed at Mycroft’s words.

“You’re bothering my mate. You have to leave now.” John advanced on Mycroft who was still near the doorway. “Perhaps you can find out where Sebastian went… There must be some tracking on us. I remember something was embedded in my neck before my first trip outside the compound.”

“Sebastian’s is missing. It’s was deactivated several months ago.” 

“Maybe his human mate removed it.”

“Maybe… but I shouldn’t have to tell you… he is very dangerous. He was trained as you were… in combat.”

John glanced back at Sherlock who stood in silence, embarrassed. “Out.” His order to Mycroft was quick. “I’ll protect Sherlock with my life. He’s no longer your pack or your concern.”

“You are wrong, John Watson… he is my brother and he will always be my concern. Human packs don’t work like werewolf packs.” Opening the door he stepped out. At the last moment he pulled a disc from his pocket and handed it to John. “More footage from your pack. Good day.” And then he was gone.

John waited until he heard Mycroft leave the building before turning back to Sherlock and nuzzling his reddened cheeks. Handing Sherlock the disc he continued to nuzzle, pushing the human back towards the couch. “You’re upset. I can smell your anxiety.”

“Is it just my body?” Sherlock whispered as he sat on the couch.

“Is what just your body?”

“Is that the only reason you followed me here?”

“You asked me to come live with you.”

“For my body?”

John knelt so he could look up into Sherlock’s bowed face, surprised at the pain he saw there. “Sherlock?”

“Not that it matters… you’re just an… an ANIMAL! Animals are often motivated by just their mating drive.” 

John frowned and lightly touched Sherlock’s chin. “Sherlock…” With a sigh he sat on the floor beside Sherlock’s feet. “You’re right… I am just an animal. I’ve been reminded of that every single day of my life since the moment of my birth. I am an experiment. Could they breed a group of warriors who are far more cohesive than any human group? And they sent us women to breed with… relying on their conditioning us not to do what came naturally for our species… to share mates and cub more times than was necessary or healthy for our pack to maintain. But what do I know? I’m just an animal. Feral werewolves can at least spend twenty seven days a moon cycle pretending to be human… I lived in a cage. I never could forget what I was. And when they sent us out to kill…” John bit his lips and bowed his head. “I lost everyone I ever loved. I only escaped the slaughter because they thought I was dead. But I’m expendable… because I’m just an animal. I sired sixteen cubs… there are plenty to take my place.” 

“I didn’t mean it… like that.”

“I thought you were just as lost and lonely as I was. I thought that was why you asked me to come live with you… you lost your pack too… because you won’t mate the females your alpha offered you. But you still crave the companionship.” John got up and headed for the laundry room to put the sheets in the dryer. Feeling more than a little hurt he avoided Sherlock for the rest of the day.

TBC...

**Author's Note:**

> So... I was watching Being Human (UK version) and was inspired by George transforming in the woods. And since the actor who played George played Henry in Hound of Baskerville... well... Dartmoor got involved. 
> 
> Why Warg? I play a lot of Lord of the Rings Online... and warg in Tolkien's middle earth are like wolves on steroids. So I thought it would be an interesting way to label genetically manipulated werewolves. 
> 
> Pay no attention to the Pup/Cub thing... "Pup" is a cuter term of endearment even though wolves have cubs.
> 
> Yes... Martin and Arthur and named after who you think they're named after. ^^v


End file.
